Snape the Magic Hair Care Guru
by LittleMermaid325
Summary: A Marriage Law fic. Basically the ministry goes crazy and creates The Marriage Law, Harry has to marry Snape even though they hate each other, then they have to save the world from Voldemort. Angst, snarkiness, evil!Dumbledore and eventual-smut inside.
1. Chapter 1

Hi! Okay so this is my newest fanfiction. Just in case you didn't read the summery, this is a HPSS multi-chapter WIP. Right now it is rated M for language, but mostly because at some point there will be smut. It will probably be angsty smut.

Also! This story follows the basic plotline of your average Marriage Law fic. So basically, (spoiler warning!) there is a Marriage Law, Snape is the only person ever Harry can marry for reasons that only just barely make sense to the average reader, both are angry about it, they get married anyway, there is a bonding ceremony because there has to be, and then they go fight the war on Voldemort and somehow at somepoint hate each other slightly less. I'm thinking about 20 chapters? Also Snape is the magical hair-care guru, and pure-blood because I said so.

Hope you all enjoy! Please leave me reveiws so that I'll have reason to continue to write.

* * *

Snape grabbed a towel and wiped his sweaty face off with it. His hair was lank and he pushed it behind his ears to better concentrate. Thirty seconds left. He stirred counter-clockwise three times, stirred clockwise once, and then counter-clockwise another three times. The potion turned a pale shade of cerulean.

Ten seconds left. The potion had to still completely before he added the last ingredient. Five seconds. Snape hovered silently over the potion, his sleeves pushed back, a single golden hair of a unicorn foal between his fingers ready to drop. Three, two, one. He dropped the unicorn hair and the potion turned deep winy claret and bubbled madly. Snape removed the potion from the burner and watched it cool. In an hour it would turn fuchsia and would be ready to be bottled. This was the latest creation in a line of products Snape was creating.

_Snapes Magic Hair-Care Solutions_ (as Dumbledore called it) really titled _Fionnbharr Foleys __Potion's _were going to take the wizarding world by storm. This newest creation, _Fionnbharr Foleys Potion # 5 for Freakishly Frenzied Frizz, _had been particularly tricky, but he'd finally got the damn thing right. No one at Hogwarts, save for Dumbledore, knew that Snape secretly wanted to one day become the world renowned leader in hair care. Snape hated wearing his hair greasy around the school but the steam and fumes from the potions he brewed were brutal and only in the summer months when he would get the occasional break was he able to wash out the last of it.

There was a soft knock on the door. Snape sighed as he set a timer to remind him when the potion would be ready to be bottled- prolonged exposure to air made the potion congeal (this is why it was so good for frizz.) There was another soft knock at the door. Couldn't he get a moments rest? Snape reluctantly strode through his lab and into his office. He could hear a slight humming from the other side of his office door. Snape scowled as he opened the door to the grim face of Albus Dumbledore.

Snape took a step back and gestured for the headmaster to enter his office. Dumbledore was frowning and his eyes looked upon Severus with pity, though the twinkle was still there. He was sucking a lemon drop and was still humming some mindless tune. The Wedding March? Snape scowled and sat down at his desk.

"What can I do for you today, Headmaster?" Snape asked, wanting to get the conversation over with as quickly as possible so he could return to his work. Dumbledore pulled out an article from The Daily Prophet from his pocket and smoothed it on Snapes desk. Snape hadn't read the paper yet today; he'd been up all night and well into the morning working on the potion. He picked the article off of his desk and skimmed it quickly.

"So they've done it then? It's passed?" Dumbledore nodded, the twinkle briefly diminishing from his eyes as his face darkened. Snape put the article back down on his desk and looked at Dumbledore. "I assume it's safe to say the Dark Lord has infiltrated the Ministry, then?"

"I've already intercepted three offers from known Death Eaters." Dumbledore pulled out the letters from his pocket as though proof was needed, ignoring Snapes question. Snape reached out for the papers and skimmed through them.

"Parkinson, Bulstrode, Lestrange? Isn't she old enough to be his mother?" Snape returned the letters to Dumbledore. "Have you told him yet?" Dumbledore shook his head.

"I will tell him as soon as a solution has been reached." Snape seethed inwardly at the injustice.

"What about the Weasley girl?" Snape offered. Dumbledore shook his head.

"Too young, she's still underage. It has to be done fast, we can't wait for her to grow up. Besides, she couldn't protect him."

"Granger-"

"Is muggleborn." Dumbledore finished for him. Snape glowered. "Severus. We went over this already, when we first heard the rumors."

"One of the other Weasleys then! If you plan to get through that loophole you can do it with one of them!" Snapes shoulders were tense, his neck rigid. He knew what Dumbledore wanted from him and resented him for forcing this on him.

"Severus," Dumbledore reached out a hand out and patted Snapes hand fatherly. "Severus, you know why I need you to do this. They'll let the other students get by until graduation, but he needs to be protected, the sooner the better."

"He'll expect me to bring the boy to him. You know that. You know that's why they're doing this, why every Death Eater with an of-age daughter is going to send offers, many with varieties of the imperious curse in them." Snape protested.

"Yes, I've already seen that. Bellatrix's was particularly well formed; I was almost compelled to marry her myself!" Dumbledore attempted to smile. "But really, that's the point. The sooner the better, and if Voldemort thinks you are doing it to gain his favor, well it will keep you in his good books."

"Just the place I want to be," Snape muttered. Dumbledore gave him a sharp look. "Don't look at me like that! I'm doing it, aren't I? Fucking job, innit? 'Protect the boy at all costs' and all that. I want an annulment as soon as all this is over, and double my pension when I retire from this damnable school so I can finally live in peace."

"Of course, Severus. I'm sure Harry will feel the same. Would you like to be there when I tell him?" Snape shook his head. "Alright then. Afterwards? I assume the two of you will want to discuss the situation together before? No? Well I'll ask him all the same. He may have some questions of his own for you. If he agrees, as I'm sure he will once I've explained the situation properly, the ceremony and bonding will be held this weekend."

"Lovely." Snape said derisively, teeth clenched and his hands fisted.

"If you have no question then, I guess I'll take my leave. I intend to tell Harry immediately after his class with Sprout ends." Dumbledore stood and put a hand on Snapes shoulder. "It will not be the end-all, Severus. You may even grow to tolerate each other."

"Likely, I'm sure." Snape snarled.

"Yes, well. Maybe not. But you agree it is for the best. I expect to see you at dinner." And with that Dumbledore left closing the door softly behind him. Snape cursed into the empty room.

--

"They can't do this! It is a clear violation of basic human rights!" Hermione whispered angrily over the table she was sharing with Harry and Ron. Harry glanced around quickly to make sure the muffliato was still in place.

"What does it matter? It doesn't affect us. You said it doesn't apply to those still enrolled in school." Ron replied while poking the plant before him.

"Doesn't apply _yet. _As soon as we graduate we're subjected to the law! And it states in section 11B that 'even though students are exempt until graduation, engagements are highly encouraged.' And it doesn't matter if we're affected or not, it's still immoral!" Hermione said indignantly.

"What's the point, though? Forcing all seventeen to forty year old purebloods to marry halfbloods?" Harry asked.

"I don't know, it sounds suspicious. Why aren't muggleborns mentioned? Why is the ministry taking any interest in the matter in the first place? They've never paid much attention to marriage law in the past, even allowing magical creatures with human intelligence to intermarry with witches and wizards. Why the restrictions and force? And why now?" Hermione ran a hand through her hair distractedly. She looked up as a second year girl came into the greenhouse clasping a note in her hand. Harry canceled the muffliato spell as the girl nervously walked up to him to hand him the paper.

"Who's it from?" Ron asked as the girl left. Harry shrugged and opened the note.

"It's from Dumbledore. He wants to see me in his office after class."

"Think this has anything to do with that article?" Ron asked. Harry shrugged. When had anything in his life been pure coincidence?

--

When Herbology class ended Harry gathered up his things and told Ron and Hermione he would meet up with them at dinner. He made his way up the marble stairs and past the various portraits in the corridors. He wasn't sure what Dumbledore wanted to see him for, maybe he had located another horcrux? Over the summer Harry had found Slytherins' real locket in the nest of rags Kreacher slept in under the water heater. He and Dumbledore destroyed it quickly. It now resided in an old sock in Harry's trunk.

Harry stood before the gargoyle leading to Dumbledore's office trying to remember this month's password. There were only so many candies out there to choose from, how did Dumbledore keep coming up with new passwords? Finally he remembered. "Nosebleed Nougat" Harry said, and the Gargoyle sprang to life and jumped to the side.

Harry went up the spiral staircase and knocked on the door leading to Dumbledore's office. Upon hearing a muffled 'Come in,' Harry opened the door. Dumbledore was standing at the open window looking out at the grounds. His hands were clasped lightly behind his back. He turned when he heard the door open and faced Harry, a grim expression on his face. He motioned for Harry to sit in one of the chairs across his desk.

"Where is it, Sir?" Harry inquired, a bit excited at the prospect of destroying another horcrux. Dumbledore gave him a puzzled look as he sat down at his desk.

"Where is what, Harry?"

"The horcrux. I thought... er... I thought maybe you had found another one." Dumbledore chuckled softly to himself and shook his head.

"No, Harry unfortunately I have not yet located one of the remaining horcruxes, though I have my suspicions... guesses, really. No, what I have called you here for is an entirely different matter. Have you read this mornings issue of the Daily Prophet?" Harry's stomach sank. No new horcruxes, Dumbledore just wanted to discuss the news with him. Why?

"Yes Sir, er... well Hermione did." Harry stammered out. Dumbledore nodded.

"Did she happen to read the part about the new Marriage Law?" Dumbledore asked knowing that of course she had. It was the cover issue.

"Er, yeah. She said, well we were wondering why the Ministry was pushing this so much. Hermione said they'd never taken any interest in who anyone married or anything before." Dumbledore looked at Harry gravely.

"We think the Ministry has been infiltrated by the Death Eaters-"

"You think Voldemort's doing this?" Harry interrupted. "What does he care about who people marry?"

"Well Harry, he actually cares very much. You noticed how the law only mentioned purebloods and halfbloods of child-bearing age?" Harry nodded. "We believe he's trying to force purity into bloodlines. Breed out the impurities, so to speak. Unfortunately it is a common misconception in our world that magic begets magic. We know this is not the case, else there would be no muggleborns or squibs in the world."

"Yeah, but they can't really do this." Harry exclaimed angrily. "How can they just make people marry?"

"Oh, threats of Azkaban, audits, blackmail, they'll find ways." Harry could sense there was something to all this that Dumbledore was skating around, something he was holding back. As interesting as all of this was, why did he need to be called in here to discuss this bit of news?

"With all due respect Sir," Harry started.

"You're wondering why I called you in here to tell you all of this." Dumbledore finished for him. Harry nodded. Dumbledore adjusted a few papers on his desk, separating three from the rest. He skimmed them quickly while Harry fidgeted in his seat, and then handed them to him. Harry took the papers offered to him and read the one on top.

_Mr. Potter,_

_As I am sure you have heard by now at five fifteen this evening the Ministry approved the Marriage Act. As a concerned parent of an of-age daughter, I am contacting you in the hopes of securing an alliance between our two families. The Parkinson family name has been pureblood for centuries. As a halfblood, your muggle mother would have no standing in the community, however the Potter name dates past the age of Merlin and would be an ideal match for our daughter Pansy. _

_Naturally with your standing in the community it is safe to assume you will receive other proposals from pureblood families in the region. As incentive to accept I am willing to provide a yearly stipend of 110,000 galleons and unlimited access to any of the Parkinson properties. Of course I do not expect you to get married immediately. Give it a week to think it over. I await your owl._

_Mr. Parkinson, FBWS, MDA_

The second letter, signed by _W. Bulstrode, WWA, MP, _was much along the same lines as the first, offering 105,500 galleons a year and an estate in the countryside. The third letter was particularly scary with only the words '_Marry me!_' and the name _Bellatrix Black-Lestrange, Widow. _Harry's hands shook as he handed the letters back over to Dumbledore who was looking graver than ever.

"All three of these letters contained the imperious curse. They were intercepted by myself early this morning. I expect you will receive more. My advice is to not open the letters, throw them directly in the fire if necessary."

"Why are they sending me these... these proposals? Why do they want me to marry their daughters? Or Bellatrix?" Harry asked dumbfounded.

"Like I said Harry, we believe Voldemort is behind this Marriage Act. These three offers are from known or suspected Death Eaters. I think they are hoping that through an engagement and later marriage either to you or through their daughters to you, that they will one day be able to present you to Voldemort." Dumbledore said, his voice heavy as he looked at Harry though his tiny spectacles.

"Well, okay. But the law says that it doesn't apply to students until we graduate. And Hermione said something about a time deferment for people... they have a year or something to get married?" Harry said trying to remember what Hermione had quoted from the paper earlier.

"Yes, well. Be as that may for the majority, Harry, I fear we may have to make special accommodations."

"What do you mean?" Harry was becoming suspicious of what Dumbledore was leading to. Did he want Harry to choose now? Who could he even marry? He and Ginny had broken up, though he supposed he could try and give it another go with her. At the end of next year she would be subject to the law anyway, and she _was _a pureblood. "Do you expect me to marry now?" He asked apprehensively.

"I think it would be for the best, Harry, if you would. I've already found someone who, while not exactly thrilled at the idea, has agreed to become your life partner." Harry felt as though his brain died. As soon as he managed to register what Dumbledore was telling him, he began to speak.

"Wait, you've found- I don't get to choose? This is my life! You can't just jump into my life and start controlling everything like some kind of puppeteer! Why do I have to marry anyway? It _says _in the law that students aren't forced to until after graduation! Why can't I wait till then to get engaged like everyone else?" Harry was pacing across the room in a rage, furious that once again his life to be the exception to the rule.

"Well Harry, of course you get to choose, I can't force you into a bond, because of course we'll have to hold a bonding ceremony to make sure the Ministry absolutely can't dispute it, but really. I must say, this is the best chance we have at keeping you protected, and also at winning the war against Voldemort." Dumbledore said calmly. He had not moved from his seat while Harry got up and stormed about. Instead he sat quietly, hands clasped in his lap, and waited for Harry to calm down.

"How will my marrying help win the war with Voldemort?" Harry said derisively.

"The person I want you to marry has an inside connection to Voldemort. The bonding ceremony will create a connection between you and your spouse that, with the help of occlumency, will allow a form of communication between the two of you. We can use this connection to our advantage. Also, as I've already stated, though not in so many words, I believe this person would be best suited for protecting you should the need arise." Dumbledore patiently explained.

Harry stopped pacing the room and locked eyes with Dumbledore. An inside connection to Voldemort. Occlumency. And why hadn't Dumbledore said 'she' when describing this person, choosing instead words that were vague and gender-neutral? Life partner, spouse, this person. Harry wasn't stupid; he could put two and two together and come up with four.

Harry growled as something inside of him snapped. "No," he said, his voice as lethal as though he had just uttered the Killing Curse. "No! I won't do it! I won't! There has to be someone _anyone _else! I refuse to go through with this!" In his fury Harry grabbed the closest thing to him (a silver inkwell) and threw it at the window. The window broke as the inkwell passed through it, then repaired itself immediately. Harry cursed.

Dumbledore's eyes sparkled like diamonds with all their hardness and strength. Harry could feel the rage burning inside of him like a fire. He was _not _okay with this. On a list of people he hated with a passion, Snape came in third, closely rivaled by Draco who had only surpassed him when Draco tried to kill Dumbledore last year and Snape had prevented it without giving himself away.

In a duel in the Astronomy tower at the end of last year Snape had nonverbally transferred enough strength to Dumbledore for the Headmaster to Stun Draco and Snape and scare the other Death Eaters away before releasing Harry's full body bind and fainting to the floor. Only in the Hospital Wing later that evening did the whole story come out. The following day Snape managed to convince Voldemort he had modified Dumbledore's memory enough that he thought Snape had saved him rather than dueled against him. Draco had been removed from Hogwarts by Bellatrix before she fled from Hogwarts that night and he had not returned for his seventh and final year.

Still, even with clear loyalties to Dumbledore and the Order Harry could not bring himself to like Snape, though he admittedly has a grudging respect for the man and everything he's been through. That didn't seem to slow Snape down though in taking points off Gryffindor or constantly searching for any way to berate Harry in front of his classmates. Newly reinstated Professor of Potions, Snape was still the snarky bastard he'd always been.

Yes, Snape would be the person Dumbledore would ask to fill some hideous task in the event of crisis. But this, how could anyone ask of them this? Married to Snape. Married to a man who hated him before they even ever met. A man he hated in return. It wasn't right. He wouldn't do it.

Harry had started pacing the office again at some point during his internal angsting and for a while Dumbledore was content to sit quiet and wait. However when it became clear that Harry wasn't going to remove himself from his own thoughts anytime soon Dumbledore decided it was time to say something. "Harry..."

"No! How can you just take half my life away! Marry me off like this is some third world country and I'm the virgin bride! Are you going to want blood-stained bed sheets as well? Fuck, ew gross am I going to have to sleep with him? Don't answer that I'd rather not know until ten minutes before it happens. And a nice memory charm after, if you will."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You'll do it then?" Harry took a deep breath, his entire body shaking as he tried to control his rage. He exhaled slowly and turned to look Dumbledore in the eyes. Was Dumbledore getting some kind of sick satisfaction from this? Harry pushed that thought aside as he answered the question.

"Well it isn't like I have any bloody choice. And don't tell me we all have choices, I have to do this if we want to win the war. That's what you're telling me, right? Marry the Dungeon Bat or lose. I swear I will make Voldemort suffer for this!"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two of Snape the Magic Hair Care Guru. Even I was starting to believe I would never finish this chapter. Hopefully less time to put up the next chapter. Feel free to message me with any ideas of where I should take the story (I've got an outline, but there's always room for suggestion.) Enjoy the chapter and please leave me reviews!

* * *

Two days had passed since Dumbledore had pulled Harry aside to tell him about the Marriage Law. Two days in which Harry had been moody and sullen at best, prone to screaming at his friends and hexing first years at his worst. He had stopped speaking to Hermione yesterday when she told him that 'maybe it was for the best,' his marrying Snape. Ron had reacted as expected, blowing up in rage at the indignation of it all. He had helped Harry with his anger a bit by suggesting they set off a few Dungbombs in the dungeons, and then watching Filch from under the invisibility cloak blow up at every passing Slytherin on their way to dinner.

In the past two days Harry had received five more offers for marriage and, listening to Dumbledore's advice, Harry threw each of them directly into the fire without opening them. Harry wished desperately that Sirius was still alive so he could talk to him about all this. He tried discussing his anger with Hagrid but quickly found his attempts to be futile. Though Hagrid agreed the Marriage Law was a ridiculous invasion of human rights, he also believed that any plan of Dumbledore's must be the best line of action and that Harry should just try to make the best of the situation at hand. Snape couldn't possibly be _that _bad.

The morning of the bonding ceremony came altogether too quickly. Harry hadn't slept the night before, instead choosing to wander the halls under the invisibility cloak entertaining vague thoughts of jumping off the top of the astronomy tower. Sunrise found him in the common room staring fixedly at the fire, face tinted green with nausea. How could he possibly go through with this? It was absurd, cruel even. Given as a gay couple they couldn't conceive so copulation wouldn't be necessary (a loophole Dumbledore had found useful in getting both parties to agree,) they would still have to reside with one another.

Harry didn't know how he could possibly survive being married to Snape. They had yet to discuss the forthcoming marriage, due mostly to the extreme measures both went through in order to best avoid the other. Even still they could not prevent contact yesterday during double potions, which had ended with Harry losing twenty-five points for asking Hermione if he could borrow a quill. Just imagine how many house points he would lose leaving a wet towel on the floor.

People were beginning to wake. Harry could hear his housemates shuffling through the common room on their way to breakfast. For the most part they ignored him. His engagement had not been announced and Harry had no desire to tell anyone other than his closest friends. Hermione joined Harry on the couch after a while and sat with him in silence. When Ron came down the three of them left for breakfast.

At breakfast Harry sat himself between Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table. He glanced quickly up at the head table to see if Snape was having as much difficulty ingesting the food as he was, but Snape wasn't there. He considered bolting. How badly would anyone really miss him if he ran away to Greece, or South America, or Australia? Sure Voldemort might win the war if that happened, but would that really be so bad? Maybe underneath that psychotic bloodthirsty murdering facade was really a sweet little dictator just crying out for love.

There really was no hope, was there?

The Great Hall started emptying out as the students went in their different directions. Harry, Hermione, and Ron waited at the Gryffindor table until they saw Dumbledore finish his Kippurs and then followed him out onto the grounds where Snape apparently was waiting next to a carriage. Ron and Hermione looked at Harry with despair in their eyes. Neither of them had any words of hope to say. It was all Ron could do to not hex Snape into oblivion right then and there, but for the sake of the wizarding world and the promise he made Hermione, he kept his mouth shut and just shook his head.

Harry looked at Snape, his _fiancé._ Snape was dressed in his usual black robes which fit him loosely and were billowing in the wind. His hair hung lank around his shoulders and failed at hiding the tension in his neck. Snape glared malevolently at Harry as he said goodbye to Ron and Hermione as though this was a procession to his funeral. Close enough.

Dumbledore motioned to the carriage and said they should be getting on their way. They had a ten am appointment at the Registrars office where the civil marriage would be preformed. Hagrid was going to meet them there to serve as the second witness. Ron and Hermione trudged back up to the castle as Harry followed Dumbledore and Snape into the carriage.

The ride into Hogsmeade couldn't have been more awkward if Grawp had joined them and started a strip tease. Dumbledore kept up a mindless chatter throughout the ride, alternating asking Harry and Snape equally mundane questions in attempt to make conversation. After a few murderous death glares from Snape Dumbledore quieted down and began to hum. Harry could feel Snape glaring at him too but kept his eyes firmly out the windows as though the trees passing were the most interesting he'd ever seen.

Horrible as the ride into Hogsmeade was, as soon as the carriage began to slow Harry found himself wishing the road would never end. As soon as the carriage stopped his life as he knew it would end. He would still be Harry Potter (there were no laws requiring they change their names,) but he would now be married to Severus Snape. Harry Potter: Severus Snape's husband, the husband of Severus Snape, The-Boy-Who-Lived-Only-To-Be-Married-Off-To-A-Vindictive-Bastard. Harry found himself missing the Hungarian Horntail from his fourth year.

The next hour was a bit of a blur to Harry. He vaguely remembered sitting on a horribly uncomfortable wooden chair in an ugly waiting room with peeling cream-colored wallpaper. He remembered Dumbledore pointing out where he should sign his name, shaking the registrar's hand, the throbbing vein in Snape's temple as the registrar congratulated them. He couldn't hear a thing anyone said; there was a rushing in his head that blocked all external noise.

Harry wanted to cry as Dumbledore handed out champagne flutes and opened a bottle of bubbly. Snape seemed as though about to combust when Dumbledore proposed a toast to the happy couple, and Hagrid and the registrar cried 'hear hear!' Surely Harry must have done something absolutely awful in a past life to deserve this.

Outside the registrars office the group split into two as Hagrid and Harry wandered up the street, going in and out of shops to kill time before the Bonding Ritual. The registrar that had overseen their marriage would be performing the bonding, and once again Dumbledore and Hagrid would act as the witnesses. The Bonding Ritual was set to begin at noon.

Dumbledore had explained earlier to Harry that the Bonding Ritual would be necessary to keep the ministry from interfering with the marriage. The new law had been written to provide the wizarding community with children of magical bloodlines; however at no point had the law actually mentioned forcing the couples to have children, or banned same-sex marriages. With this loophole and the added strength of a Bonding, Dumbledore hoped to save Harry and win the war.

There was an added benefit to the Bonding, however. The Blood Ceremony ensured that a connection between Harry and Snape would be forged. The marriage allowed the connection to let one know when the other was in danger. Love and consummation, though not required, strengthened the connection, and with proper training in legilimency and occulmency the connection could grow to the point of telecommunication. Dumbledore hoped that the marriage would allow Snape and Harry to become close enough that (with their essential positions in the war,) this connection would save both their lives and allow them to come out victorious.

Hagrid tried to engage Harry in conversation but Harry was still not entirely with it. In Zonko's Joke Shop he replenished his supply of Dungbombs but didn't show much interest in any of the other items on display. At the Hogshead Hagrid bought Harry a shot of fire whiskey, claiming if he was old enough to get married he was old enough to drink. It burned Harry's throat going down but he felt a bit better afterward. At least he started to talk a bit more.

Harry confessed to his fear of how his classmates would treat him once they knew he was married, as at least the Death Eaters kids were soon to find out as soon as Snape told Voldemort. He was concerned about how this would affect his dating life. Sure he hadn't dated much before, but now he wouldn't be able to at all. He was a seventeen year old boy, how was this fair?

At ten to noon Harry and Hagrid started back to the registrar's office, walking around it to the clearing in the back where the ritual would be held. Dumbledore and Snape were waiting with the registrar in the center of a circle of stones. Two rings, a set of glasses, and an ancient stone bowl filled with a clear softly bubbling liquid sat at a low table in the circle.

"Are we ready then?" the registrar asked. Harry wondered what the man's name was, and if it had been mentioned earlier. He nodded and looked up at the man he was now married to. Snape's eyes glinted maliciously, as though he was plotting all the horrible things he could do to this man while under his Death Eater robes. Snape nodded.

"Okay. Well as instructed I will be skipping all the, er, bells and whistles so to speak, that would normally accompany the Bonding Ceremony. Just the Blood Ritual and we'll call it a day, is that right Headmaster?" the registrar looked to Dumbledore for approval. Harry wondered where the bells and whistles were. Though the fire whisky had calmed him he still felt as though he were watching the whole charade from the sidelines.

The man instructed Harry and Snape to stand opposite each other with the stone table between them, their palms outstretched. Harry did as was told. The man took his left hand and placed it in Snape's right, and then took Snape's left hand and placed it in Harry's other. Harry noticed that Snape's hands were long, dry and cracked, whereas his own were slightly calloused and damp with sweat. The man held a wand to Snape's open palm and traced the lifeline. A shimmer of blood pooled in Snape's hand. Harry refrained from flinching as he felt a white scorching heat tear a line in his hand and saw his palm fill with blood as well.

Harry and Snape were instructed to turn each others palms so that the blood flowed into the bowl. The potion turned a deep red and gave a low hiss. The registrar waved his wand over the potion and over both Snape and Harry's heads. Harry and Snape were told to lift the bowl with their bloody palms still in the others hands, and to each take a sip. Harry grimaced as the liquid burned his throat leaving a metallic taste on his tongue. As they put the bowl down Harry thought he felt Snape's hands shake faintly. Maybe he should have discussed with Snape what they were getting into beforehand, Harry thought.

The two rings on their table were slid into place, one on Harry's left hand and the other on Snape's. The bleeding in his palm had stopped, Harry noticed, though it still stung. It was final. The marriage and bonding was complete. This should be a happy moment in Harry's life but instead he felt as though he were about to puke. In an hour they would be back in the castle and Ron would be helping him put the rest of his life in his trunk, to be dragged down to the dungeons where Dumbledore informed him he would now be living.

Students were milling about the grounds as Harry, Snape, Dumbledore, and Hagrid stepped out of the carriage in front of the castle. Snape stormed off as soon as his feet touched ground and Hagrid slapped a heavy hand on Harry's shoulders and told him that Snape would 'come around.' Harry thought Hagrid had completely lost his marbles and left to go find Ron and Hermione.

Harry found his friends in the common room playing a game of Exploding Snap by the far wall. Hermione looked up as he approached and they both stood.

"Did they do it then? You're actually married?" Hermione breathed, her eyes open wide in disbelief. Harry held up his left hand and showed them the ring on his finger. Ron gasped.

"Blimey," Ron said, his face twisting in disgust. Harry suddenly found himself just wanting to be alone.

"I need to pack." Harry turned towards the boys dormitory.

"Pack? Pack for what?" Ron started.

"I'm moving." Harry said simply.

"Where?" Ron asked, honestly flabbergasted.

"To Snape's quarters, naturally. Isn't that right, Harry?" Hermione chirped. Harry looked at her standing there with her hand on her hip looking like the know-it-all she was. Harry wanted to hit her.

"Yes," he grunted. His head was pounding with unmatched fury and all he wanted to do was run away from this life, run anywhere, _be_ anywhere but here. Ron opened his mouth in protest.

"You have to live with-"

"Ron just stop. I honestly can't fucking take it right now. Yes, he is my husband. Yes, I hate him. Yes, I now have to fucking live with the fucking greasy fucking fuck fuck of a bastard that he is. Fuck." Harry pushed the chair Ron had been sitting in earlier. A couple students milling around looked over at the disruption, but Harry didn't see them. "Why the fuck does all this goddamned shit have to happen to me for? What the hell did I ever do? I don't fucking deserve this. Fucking married to a bastard who'd just as easy see me dead under a goddamned bus."

Harry turned over the table and cards flew everywhere. A few exploded in midair and Harry laughed manically. Hermione edged towards him carefully. The portrait door opened as a few of the students by the fire edged out of the common room nervously.

"Harry?" Hermione asked carefully, her hand outstretched and reaching for his shoulder. He pushed her arm away.

"Just leave me the fuck alone, okay?" Harry glared at his friends than stormed off into the boy's dormitory. He made it about halfway up the stairs before his stomach got the best of him. He pushed open the door to the lavatory and just made it in time to toss the fire whiskey and champagne from earlier into the toilet in front of him.

Harry dry-heaved into the toilet for a few minutes after his stomach was emptied, then flushed the toilet and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He sat slumped against the wall of the W.C. and watched the water in the toilet swish and gurgle until finally it settled. Then he began to cry.

Of all the horrible things he'd been forced to live through- his parents' deaths, Sirius's death, Cedric's death, the Cruciatus Curse, being possessed by Voldemort- why now was this too being placed upon him. Hadn't he bore enough pain and suffering? Harry heard the door to the lavatory squeak open and tried to stifle his sobs and wipe clean his face. Though the stall door was locked, he still didn't want anyone seeing him like this. He could hear whispering, angry, frustrated, then footsteps.

"Harry?" Hermione's voice squeaked. "Come on out here, come on. We'll help you pack." Harry reluctantly opened the stall door and stumbled over to where Hermione and Ron were.

"Fine, but I don't want to talk." Harry said as he walked over to the sink to wash out his mouth. The three of them climbed the rest of the stairs up to the 7th year boy's dormitory where they silently packed.

After pulling the last pair of socks out from under his bed Harry closed his trunk and sat on top of it. There was nothing left to pack. He looked at his watch- it was a quarter to four. Harry swore, "Shit, I have to meet Snape in fifteen minutes." Harry reluctantly picked up his trunk and began dragging it across the room.

Hermione elbowed Ron, and he stuttered "Er, well good luck then."

"We'll see you at dinner, Harry." Hermione called after him. The door shut itself behind Harry.

--

Harry took his time as he trudged down to the dungeons, not in any particular rush to get there. Harry wondered what it would be like, living with Snape. Then he rolled his eyes at such a ridiculous question. It would be horrible, how could it be anything else? Harry couldn't imagine what kind of blackmail Dumbledore must be hanging over Snape right now to get him to submit to this. Couldn't be much worse than the fate of the wizarding world, though, could it?

Harry resented the fact that if he did not go through with this and they lost the war, even if he died too, he would be blamed. At least this way regardless of the outcome no one could say he didn't make sacrifices. He really should talk to Dumbledore about doubling their efforts to find the remaining horcruxes. The sooner they won this war the sooner he could annul this godforsaken marriage.

Harry could see Snape waiting at the foot of the stairs leading down to the dungeons, his usual scowl firmly in place.

"You're late, Potter." Snape snarled maliciously. "That will be five points from Gryffindor."

Harry's blood started to boil. "You can't do that!" Snape turned on his heel and brought his face within inches of Harry's own. Harry could see every vein in his forehead, every red blood vessel, his own reflection in those hollow black holes Snape tried to pass off as eyes.

"I can do anything I want, Potter. I am your professor and, most reluctantly I assure you, your husband, and you will obey me." Snape's voice was quiet as death. Harry's hand wrapped around his wand and he struggled to maintain self-control. He wanted badly to hex Snape into oblivion but knew he didn't stand a chance in a duel. It took all of his willpower but Harry kept his mouth closed, teeth clenched and grinding, and didn't say a word.

Snape stood straight and started down the hall again. Harry followed a step behind Snape, his trunk scraping the dungeon floor as it was dragged along. They passed the potions classroom and Snape's office, coming to a halt in front of an ancient tapestry that was fraying at the ends. A black bird sat atop the branches of an elder tree, its beady eyes watching Harry very closely.

"Nevermore." Snape growled. The raven blinked and the tapestry became a door. Harry tried not to snort aloud at Snape's choice of password, and followed him into the quarters where he would now be living.

It was exactly as Harry would have imagined Snape's rooms to be, had he ever bothered to imagine them. They were standing between what Harry assumed was the living area and the kitchenette. Nothing had been done to make the place seem cozy or livable. The dungeon floor remained bare, the walls decorated only with shelves of books and jars of god knows what.

In the living area there was a large fireplace to the left with a blue and green settee opposite it, and a chair facing the door. There was nothing separating the kitchenette from the living space, save for a small oak table with a few bottles of a lurid pink liquid and two chairs. The cabinets were also oak. Everything was spotless.

Snape pointed to a door at the far end of the room, just past the table. "That is the entrance to my laboratory, Potter. That door will remain locked at all times. You are never to enter it." Snape walked across the room and Harry noticed a gap in the wall leading to a dark hallway. Facing him were two doors. "The left door is the lavatory. The right door leads to my chambers, which you will never see. Do not ever open the door just inside the lavatory."

Snape looked at Harry and he nodded showing he understood what he was being told. Snape pointed to a door opposite the door to the lavatory. "That is your room Potter. While in these quarters I expect you to confine yourself to them as best possible. You will meet me out here at half past five so I may go over some rules with you, understood?"

Harry nodded again. Snape turned and walked away, leaving Harry alone in the dark hallway. Harry picked up his trunk and brought it into the room designated 'his,' and looked around. His room was as depressing and empty as the rest of Snape's quarters. There were no windows, no rugs, and no paintings. All that stood in the room was an armoire, a canopy bed, and a chair, all of which were dark wood. The linen on the bed was crisp and white, as was the blanket folded at the foot of the bed. Harry sighed, and began to unpack.

--

At a quarter past five Harry was laying on the bed staring at the ceiling imagining what life would have been like had Voldemort just finished him off when he was a baby. Or if Sirius had still been alive so that he could have someone in which to confide.

He wasn't particularly looking forward to dinner; he knew as soon as he got there his friends would pester him for information on what Snape's chambers looked like. Harry imagined life in the dungeons would be similar to life at Privit Drive, only back in his second year when he was locked in his room all summer.

Harry checked his watch. It was the one Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had given him for his seventeenth birthday. He wondered if they knew he was now married to a man twenty one years his senior. Harry stood up and stretched. It was about time for him to meet Snape to hear the "rules" about to be set forth.

Snape was in the kitchen setting some unlabeled bottles filled with a pink liquid into a cabinet with some other colorful, unlabeled bottles.

"What're those?" Harry asked, pointing to the potions. Snape glared at him.

"Potions, Potter. Don't ask questions and don't touch anything." Harry rolled his eyes and sat in a chair at the tiny table.

"So we're jumping right into the rules then, I take it?" He said obnoxiously. Snape scowled.

"Just like your father, Potter. Arrogant, think you own this place already I'm sure. Well let me set you straight- this is _my_ home, these are _my_ things, and _you _are only here because Dumbledore said it must be so. So listen to me closely because I am not going to repeat myself. You will follow these rules precisely or I will throw your scrawny ass out and to hell with who wins the war." Harry opened his mouth to speak but Snape was too quick and pointed his wand under his throat.

"Rule one, Potter: You will not speak unless asked a direct question." Harry could feel the anger boiling up inside him aching to be released. In spite of himself Harry kept his mouth closed and refrained from speaking.

"Rule two, though I've already mentioned this before: You will not touch anything that is mine. You will keep your personal possessions to the confines of your room."

"That's not fair!" Harry interrupted, enraged. Why should he be forced to keep all his things in his room? Even in dorms there was a common room to share so that they didn't have to spend all their time in just one room.

"I told you, you are not to speak without being asked a direct question!" Snape snapped. Harry exploded.

"That's bullocks! Your rules are ridiculous! What makes you think I want to speak to you any more than I have to in the first place? I have to live here just the same as you do! If I want to study at the table can I? Am I even allowed to sit on the couch? You can't just ban me from these things just because you don't want me here. I don't want to be here either! You think I want to live with a snarky ass bastard like yourself when I could be rooming with my friends?"

"That is enough Potter!" Snape snarled. "I will not take another word from you!"

Snape grabbed Harry by the arm and pushed him out of the way. Harry shrugged himself out of Snape's grip and reacted instantly as one would in a brawl. It wasn't the best choice, it wasn't a thought out decision, and Harry regretted it even as he pulled his arm back and slammed his fist into Snape's face. It took Snape a second to react; used as he was to dueling wizards armed with wands, he was unaccustomed to the more primal fist fight.

Snape reached for his wand but Harry's was already out. Snape was disarmed before his hand reached his pocket. He couldn't comprehend how this kid was getting the better of him, but he knew he wouldn't allow it another second. Snape shoved harry against the wall and closed one hand against Harry's wrist and the other around his neck. Harry struggled to escape but Snape's grip was surprisingly strong. Harry tried to knee him in the groin and found the hand tighten around his neck.

"Do not attempt so low a move on me again, Potter." Snape sneered. Harry tried to hit Snape again with his free hand but found himself having difficulty maintaining focus. Black dots were beginning to form in his line of vision as he gasped for breath. Blood was streaming out of Snape's nose from when Harry hit him earlier. It was the last thing Harry saw before he lost consciousness.


	3. Chapter 3

Okay, so chapter three is up despite the severe lack of reviews I recieved for chapter two (not even one review!) I suppose this must have something to do with it taking me three months to write the second chapter. The bonding ceremony and everything took me forever. But this chapter came to me easily, as I think the fourth one will. Its a little bit shorter than the other ones, but I didn't want to drag the chapter out and make it boring. I hope you all enjoy it, and I would really appreaciate a couple of reviews (just saying.)

* * *

Snape stared at Harry's lifeless form hunched against the wall. It had probably been a bad idea to choke him so hard, but what was done was done. He considered leaving him and going down to the Great Hall, but Dumbledore would ask why Harry was missing from dinner. A responsible adult would take Harry up to the Hospital Wing, but Snape had seen people choked unconscious before and knew he'd revive on his own soon enough. Snape pulled a text from the shelf- "Gilby Gilbert's Encyclopedia on Tropical Flora and Their Usage in the Cosmetic Arts" sat at the table, and started reading.

Snape read a paragraph on the _Paullinia cupana, _a fascinating plant most commonly associated with Potions that give the drinker uncommon strength and energy, but which with Snape thought may have properties that would help with the potion he was developing help prevent oil buildup in hair. He glanced over to Harry, who had still not moved. He looked his watch then stood up to check Harry's pulse, just in case. Though it would undoubtedly be the easiest way out of the marriage, Snape couldn't imagine Dumbledore would be thrilled if Harry died prior to killing off Voldemort.

Snape slapped Harry lightly on his cheek a few times and then checked his wrist for a pulse. Harry's eyelids fluttered. Snape almost sighed from relief but stopped himself just in time. Why should he care if Harry lived or died? Save for the obvious inconvenience in explaining to Dumbledore his death, of course.

Harry had a confused expression on his face as he looked around. He appeared not to be fully with it yet. Harry flinched as a roaring sound met his ears and Snape turned to the now-green flames in the fireplace. He stood up just in time to see Dumbledore step into his living space. Still holding Harry's wrist, Snape pulled him up into a standing position. Dumbledore's face hardened as he took in the wobbling of Harry's knees and the smeared blood that had dried under Snape's nose.

"Not killing each other already, are you?" Dumbledore asked, eyeing Snape crossly. Snape's mind raced for a believable lie but was interrupted as Harry stupidly opened his mouth to speak.

"Sir, I- I had…a vision. My scar hurt," Harry stammered out quickly. He didn't know why he was bothering to tell a lie, certainly Snape would take more heat for hitting him than the other way around, but Harry thought it was best for Dumbledore to not know they were violently fighting. Snape's hand around Harry's wrist tightened and then, as though he just realized it was still there, let go.

"Did you see anything Harry? Are you alright?" Snape scowled inwardly at the order and lack of concern Dumbledore showed in his phrasing. Though Snape knew Harry was lying, he felt his health should have been Dumbledore's first concern, the Dark Lord his second.

"He seemed excited about something, Voldemort. He was in a room, I didn't see anything specific. He was happy, I think there was someone he was talking to, I'm not sure. Then everything went black." Harry knew he sounded unconvincing, but his head was still a bit foggy and he couldn't think straight. Luckily, Snape decided to join in at that moment.

"Potter seized up just as we were leaving to go down to dinner. I tried to catch him before he hit the ground and his head hit mine, gave me this bloody nose. He just revived as you came through the fireplace." Dumbledore nodded at Snape's story and encouraged him to continue. "From what Potter has said, Sir, I have reason to believe the Dark Lord has learned of our joining and that he believes it to be in his favor."

Harry marveled inwardly at the quickness Snape was able to pick up his story and make it sounds plausible. He had no idea how Voldemort could logically know already that he had married Snape this morning, but why not? He had supporters everywhere, for all anyone knew the registrar could have been a Death Eater. Dumbledore couldn't prove otherwise. Harry nodded to show his agreement with Snape's testimony.

Dumbledore sighed. "Well I suppose I came at the right time then, to discuss this with you Harry. We need to start up your occumency lessons again. We cannot allow your connection to Lord Voldemort to continue. In addition, as I explained to you earlier, occlumency and legilemency will allow you and Snape to broaden the connection forged by the bonding. I think that this new connection could be key to us winning the war." Harry nodded. He had heard all of this before.

Dumbledore continued, "I want to create a schedule with you. We will continue the research we have already begun, of course, but I want to meet with you every third Thursday of the month for occulumency training. Once you have become proficient in occulumency we will move on to legilemency." Harry nodded again. At least this time he did not have to have additional lessons with Snape.

"What time would you like to meet, Sir?" Harry asked Dumbledore.

"I'll send a letter to you by owl the morning before the meeting with a time for you Harry. The times will change with my schedule and obligations as Headmaster and therefore unfortunately I am unable to determine a specific time far enough in advance to give to you. Even dedicating the third Thursday of each month is a bit of a stretch." Harry nodded again.

"Do you have any new leads, Sir, on the Hor-" Dumbledore interrupted him.

"We will discuss this later, Harry. For now I think it would be best if you and Snape go up to dinner. It has already started and would be a shame for you both to go hungry. I myself still have some business to attend to, but I should be up for some dessert. I believe the house-elves are preparing some lovely custard tarts tonight. I expect they will be delicious."

Snape wondered what it was Harry was about to say that Dumbledore had felt so necessary to interrupt. Was he, the spy risking so much of his life for this war, not trusted enough to be privy to an aspect of it? What did Harry know that Dumbledore wanted hidden from him? And why had he not been asked to help?

Harry watched as Dumbledore stepped back into the fireplace and whiled away in the smoke and flames. As soon as Dumbledore was out of sight Harry slumped back down onto the floor and put a hand over his eyes. His head hurt and he was pretty sure that if he looked in a mirror there would be purple and black bruises around his neck. At least he was breathing properly again.

"Get up, Potter. We are going to dinner." Snape said looking down at Harry. When Harry failed to respond Snape asked: "Did you hear me? I said we are-"

"I heard you." Harry interrupted. "Just give me a minute; I was just bloody unconscious if you weren't aware."

"You know Potter, when facing the Dark Lord you won't have a minute to catch your breath."

"Yeah well he isn't here right now, is he? So I'll take a rest while I have the chance and I'll go to dinner when I'm bloody ready to." Harry snapped, wondering why everything always had to be a fight with Snape, when two minutes ago they were on the same side of a lie.

"Always so disrespectful." Snape scowled.

"Disrespectful?" Harry snapped. "I have every right to be disrespectful! You just choked me until I passed out! I can't believe Dumbledore didn't say anything about the marks on my neck!" Harry tried to calm his breathing. He'd moved in hardly an hour ago and already his supposed husband was trying to kill him. If this was any indication of what the rest of the school year was going to be like, Voldemort better be dead by Christmas or Harry would lose his mind.

Harry took a deep breath and stood up again. Snape's arms were crossed and he didn't even try to help, not that Harry wanted him to. Harry turned away from him and opened the portrait, stepping out into the cold corridor beyond. He stood with his hands clenched tightly, then started up towards the Great Hall. He was hungry and depressed, and hoped dinner with his friends could put him in a cheerier mood, not that he expected it.

Snape waited a few minutes to be sure Harry wasn't about to return, then sat down at the table in his kitchenette. Swearing loudly to the empty room, he let his head fall into his arms and allowed himself a moments rest. Miserable as his life had been up to this point, he honestly hadn't thought it could get much worse. He had no expectations of living through the end of the war, and the prospect of spending the remaining months married to the Potter brat promised to be worse than any Hell imaginable.

Snape knew he had to get up and go to dinner soon- it would get back to Dumbledore if he missed it and Snape wasn't in the mood for an interrogation. He got up from the table reluctantly and walked over to the cabinet where he kept his best liquors. He shoved aside the scotch, the gin, and the brandy and took out a half empty bottle of firewhisky. He poured himself a shot; he didn't want to get wasted, just take the edge off. It burned the back of his throat going down. He coughed once and poured himself another.

--

Harry got into the Great Hall just as dinner began appearing on the tables. He looked down the Gryffindor table for Ron and Hermione and found them near the middle, sitting with Ginny and Neville. Neville scooted over so that Harry could sit between him and Ron. As soon as he was seated Ron turned to Harry and asked him how everything went. Harry glanced over at Hermione and Ginny who were staring on curiously.

"How what went, Harry?" Ginny asked him.

"Nothing," Harry said, not sure if he wanted them to know yet. He muttered to Ron "I'll tell you later," and gave him a significant look.

"Where'd you get those bruises, Harry?" Neville asked curiously.

"What bruises?" Hermione snapped to attention. "Harry, did he hurt you? Don't tell me you two are fighting already. Do you think you should tell Dumbledore?"

"No, Hermione I'm fine. It's nothing I can't handle. Besides, I punched him in the nose." At this Ron choked on his pumpkin juice and looked at Harry in awe. Ginny and Neville, both still unaware of who was being talked about, looked on in confusion. Hermione, conflicted with her anger at Harry for resorting to violence, pride at him for getting back at Snape, and desire to comfort him through this difficult time in his life, struggled to find something to say. Finally she settled on the easiest, an accusation.

"Harry! You can't hit a teacher!"

"You hit a teacher Harry?" Neville said in disbelief.

"Who was it?" Ginny asked anxiously as she peered around Hermione. Harry looked back and forth between them all. If he told them he'd have to explain about how Dumbledore married him off this morning, and he wasn't sure he could handle anyone else knowing yet. On the other hand Neville was sure to notice he moved out when he went up to the dorms for the evening, and besides they would continue to pester him until he told anyway.

Harry looked down at his still-empty plate. He reached towards the shepherds pie across from him and began piling it on, hoping the distraction would give him time to stall. Right before putting a huge spoonful of food into his mouth, Harry muttered under his breath "Snape."

It took a minute for Harry's answer to sink in for Ginny and Neville. Ron was snickering into his hand while Hermione continued looking conflicted as ever. Harry watched as Neville's face changed from horror, to incredulity, and back to horror.

"You, you hit Snape? Are you mad?" He asked Harry breathlessly.

"How'd you live to tell it?" Ginny asked, lifting in her seat to see around Hermione and Ron.

"Lived to tell what?" Harry turned as a dreamy voice reached his ears. Luna was holding her dinner plate, fork, and goblet. "Can I sit here? Jennifer McCormick keeps trying to give me a make over, and I have a feeling she doesn't quite want it to look good."

Ginny stood up to make room for Luna at the table. "That stupid bitch? Want me go over and-"

"No, I'm fine here." Luna put her dinnerware down on the table and sat. "So what did you live to tell, Harry? Did you meet a Snorkack perchance? I saw you leave earlier with Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore, what that what it was about?"

"No, Luna I did not meet a Snorkack. I went into Hogsmeade with Snape and Dumbledore to, well…" Harry stalled. They would find out eventually, Harry was sure. Snape would be required to tell Voldemort and as soon as he knew, well surely the Death Eaters with kids would tell them, and then it would be all over the school. "You know how the other day the ministry passed the Marriage Law?"

Ginny dropped her fork. "No. You didn't…"

"Yeah, I did." Harry looked down at his food. How could he possibly explain to them what his reasons were for marrying Snape? They weren't all that clear to him to begin with. Dumbledore thought it was the right decision, they were trying to protect him, and he was trying to protect everyone.

Ginny turned to look up at the Head Table where Snape had just sat down and started spooning some food rather reluctantly onto his plate. Neville and Luna's eyes followed and soon Harry, Ron, and Hermione were looking up at Snape, all with the same wonder and disbelief that anyone would ever marry him.

"He's a quite unpleasant man, isn't he?" Luna said, turning back to Harry.

"Did you really marry him, Harry?" Neville practically whispered.

"I can't believe you hit him, mate. I wish I'd seen it. This might even top the time Moody turned Malfoy into a ferret!" Everyone laughed, though it was brief and subdued.

"It was pretty funny, got him right in the nose. Bled all over the place." Harry joked.

"But still, Harry. I don't think it's appropriate for you two to be fighting like this. Are you sure you won't tell Dumbledore? I mean, he's twenty-something years older than you! That can't be a fair fight." Hermione said exasperatedly.

"Yeah but Hermione, Harry's got six years of quidditch training behind him, in a fair fight, fists only I'd place my money on Harry." Ron argued.

"Yeah but look at him! Will you at least see Madam Pomfrey? Those bruises on your neck look horrible!" Hermione worried.

"I'm fine, Hermione. Just leave me alone. I can take care of this on my own." Hermione sighed and decided to drop it, for now. Harry looked back up to the Head Table where he could see Snape looking down at him. _Looking_, not glaring. He looked away when Harry caught his eye. Harry turned back to his dinner and shoveled another forkful into his mouth.

--

Snape looked down at his food. His stupid arrogant brat of a husband and his little friends were staring at them. They were talking about him. Surely the know-it-all was telling Potter right this minute to run to Dumbledore and tell him about the domestic abuse he was obviously receiving. No one would care that Potter had hit him first, everything would be his fault. As per usual.

He pushed his food around on his plate. He despised shepherds pie, but was required to sit through meals with the school. When he returned to his quarters he would prepare himself a cheese and tomato sandwich with another whisky. Until then he fully planned to entertain himself by going over various plants and their properties in hopes of finding one he may have missed that would help with the new potion he was developing for his hair care line.

His hair care line was the one thing that got him through his days now. As the war efforts escalated on both sides and teaching became more and more unbearable his cosmetic potions were the only things left for him to look forward to. He wasn't even sure if that would be enough now, now that he had been forced into a marriage with the son of the one man he ever hated more than himself. Maybe he'd make himself a double shot of whisky when he got back…

Dumbledore was still absent from the Head Table. Snape wondered what was keeping him so long. Did it have something to do with what Potter had tried to discuss with them? What were they researching that he couldn't help with? Before he had been interrupted it had sounded like Potter was saying was 'Whore.' But that made little sense. Snape tried to think of words that began with a suffix 'whore' but couldn't think further than 'horrendous' and 'horticulture,' neither of which helped him much.

It infuriated Snape that he was being deliberately left out and uninformed about something that was probably crucial to winning the war. Did Dumbledore not trust him as fully as he claimed? Sure he could be trusted to sneak around in front of Voldemort's face, alternately gathering and planting information, constantly walking the thin line between spy and traitor, but trust him something real? Something crucial? Ask for Snape's help? Of course not. Why would anyone do that? He was disgusting filth. Dark, oily, and untrustworthy. Unlovable. Unredeemable. Good for a laugh or a task no one else would be willing to fill, but once he'd done his job he could be thrown back into the dungeons to rot for all anyone cared.

He refilled his goblet twice more and pushed his food into the shape of a mountain, then smashed it flat with his fork. He wasn't one for dinner conversation so for the most part he kept his eyes focused on his plate. He just barely noticed Dumbledore as he sat down partway through dessert. The old man had been right- the elves were serving custard tarts tonight. Snape hated custard tarts. He refrained from saying anything to Dumbledore and spent the remainder of the meal staring at the doors opposite the Head Table, willing every student to get up and leave immediately.

After five students had finished their dinner and left the Great Hall, Snape decided it would be appropriate for him to leave as well. He'd done his duty, he would now go back to his dungeons and make himself his sandwich and scotch. Though not exactly the best combination, the sandwich would sate his stomach while the scotch effectively helped him forget everything that had happened earlier today. Hopefully Potter would steer clear of the dungeons long enough for him to get himself good and drunk.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thanks to everyone who keeps adding me to their favorites and/or alerts and/or reviews my story even though I haven't updated in like, six months. I promise I WILL eventually finish this story, and though I can't guarentee quick updates, I always will at some point update. Anyway it really was all the story adds and the random reviews that finally got me to finish this chapter, so I hope you like it, and please keep reviewing!

* * *

It was well past midnight before Harry put his quill down and rubbed his eyes. The fire in the Gryffindor common room was dying out, and most of the students had already gone up to their dormitories. Only Ron and Hermione remained with Harry, who had wanted to post-pone the time he had to go down to the Dungeons for as long as possible. He didn't understand why he couldn't just stay in his dorm with the other seventh year Gryffindor boys like he was supposed to before the stupid law was passed.

Harry had spent the past few hours doing the one thing he knew could make time slow down- his History of Magic homework. While he and Ron stumbled through an essay about the Witches Rebellion for Equal Rights of 1872, Hermione drafted a petition to send to the ministry about the injustice of the Marriage Law.

Boring as his History of Magic essay was, time still passed and unfortunately the time came when Harry had to go back down to the dungeons. Harry rolled up his essay and packed it in his bag with his quill. He rummaged around quickly through his bag and then swore under his breath.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked as she closed the lid on her ink bottle and slid it into her bag.

"I forgot the Marauders Map. It's in my trunk with the cloak, in the dungeons." Harry answered her.

"Oh. Well I guess you'll just have to look out for Filch, and hope you don't get caught." Hermione said.

"Yeah, I guess." Harry shrugged. "Besides, what detention could they give me that's worse than living with Snape anyways?"

Hermione gave Harry a reluctant smile and poked at the sleeping Ron. Ron grumbled and snorted in his sleep. Hermione sighed at Ron, then leaned over and gave him a quick kiss. His eyes opened and they smiled at each other.

"I knew that would work." She smiled; then pushed at him to get him to sit up. Ron looked around at Harry and Hermione and scowled.

"Why'd you wake me?" He grumbled.

"Its past curfew- Harry has to go." Hermione answered.

"Bollocks. Well mate, keep your door locked and your pants belted then, and I guess we'll be seeing you at breakfast!" Ron said. Hermione punched him on the shoulder.

"Be sympathetic!"

"What!" Ron rubbed the sore spot on his arm.

"Ugh can you guys not fight for five minutes? I'm leaving. I'll see you both at breakfast." Harry said as he swung his bag over his shoulder and stood to leave. He almost fell as Hermione suddenly leaped up to hug him.

"Oh, Harry everything will be okay, I promise. Don't worry so much, I'm sure it'll all work out in the end."

"Yeah, sure. And one day Snape will ask me if we can have babies. Seriously Hermione." Harry said sarcastically as he shook her off and walked out the portrait hole.

Walking back down to the Dungeons Harry thought about what Dumbledore had said earlier about taking Occlumency lessons again. _At_ _least it won't be with Snape_ he thought. _And what was with him cutting me off mid sentence when I asked about the Horcruxes_? It was obvious even to Harry that Dumbledore hadn't wanted to discuss the Horcruxes in front of Snape. But why? Wouldn't Snape be _the _person to trust with such a secret? And if he couldn't trust Snape to know about the Horcruxes, how come he would trust him to marry off to Harry?

Harry tried to shake off the feeling of foreboding that was washing over him and rubbed his arms to rid himself of goosebumps. It was entirely too chilly in the castle to be living in the dungeons. Harry turned down a corridor and faced the portrait into his new quarters. It had not taken enough time to get down here, but it was late enough that Harry could hope that Snape was asleep or at least hiding somewhere so that he didn't have to face him.

Harry was greeted with a loud snore from the couch when he walked into the living space. He was immediately relieved to not have to deal with Snape tonight until he picked up a whiff of alcohol and saw an empty bottle of scotch on the floor beside Snape. _Most people spend their wedding night in some ritzy hotel making love and getting ready for some tropical honeymoon. _Harry thought. _I get to come home to a man who had to drink himself half to death just to deal with the idea of living with me. How bloody romantic._

Harry contemplated leaving Snape there in his drunken stupor but it didn't seem right. The room was freezing and even if the alcohol kept Snape from feeling cold he would certainly feel it in the morning. However the consequences for moving Snape could be – no, would be- dire. And the man _did _try to choke him half to death earlier that day. Maybe he would just add a log to the fire.

As Harry bent over the dying fireplace to build the fire up again he heard a snort and some movement from the couch. Turning around quickly Harry looked over but Snape had just turned over to his side and into the fetal position. His mouth was open and his face was smashed into the one pillow in the room. Harry put his hands to his mouth as he stifled a laugh. Imagine what Ron would say to see Snape like this? He looked, if not innocent, than certainly less menacing in such a ridiculous position. Harry wondered exactly how stupid it would be to take a picture of him like this and save it for blackmail later, but he resisted.

Once the fire was back to a bright warm roar Harry stood up and walked around the room. He was a bit nervous to be hanging around in the room with Snape in such a state but hopefully he would stay asleep so that Harry could get a good look around. There were books everywhere on the bookshelves lining the walls. Harry looked over the titles and found that most of them had to do with potions and were sorted by subject (types of potions, techniques, tools, ingredients, etc.) Harry was surprised to see how many of them were concerned with hair care and cosmetics. There was also a line of books devoted solely to the Dark Arts. The various books were separated by jars of what looked like dried herbs, insect legs, and bright liquids that Harry could only hope were being saved to be used in a potion at some point.

As Harry made his way around the room he thought about how depressing and cold Snape's life must be. There wasn't one picture of family or friends, no art or tapestries or rugs to bring warmth into the space. Harry picked up the empty scotch bottle that was lying on the floor at the corner of the couch and put it on the coffee table. There was an encyclopedia lying open on an article discussing how stirring a potion containing palm fronds counter-clockwise could have detrimental effects when applied as a bleaching agent. _It couldn't be that no one had ever shown Snape kindness, the man just repelled it from him. _Harry thought. _How could anyone ever like a man who refused to be likable?_

Harry yawned and looked at a clock on the wall (the closest thing to a decoration.) It was half past midnight. He should probably get to bed soon. Harry took out his wand and dimmed the lights and conjured a blanket to cover Snape with. If they were ever going to survive living together, they would have to at least try to be amicable.

---

Harry woke up late the next morning. With no windows in his room to let in light and an unusually eerie silence from the lack of roommates getting up and ready for the day Harry had no idea what time it was. He looked at his watch; it read 9:41 am. Not _too _late, Harry decided. But he would have to start setting an alarm with no sunshine or friends to let him know it was time to get up.

Harry got dressed quickly deciding to hold off on having to shower in the dungeons for as long as possible. He would shower tonight in the lockers after Quidditch practice. It wasn't like he was creeped out or thought the shower might be dirty; it was just uncomfortable thinking about showering in Snape's quarters. It was awkward enough sleeping there.

Harry left his room as quietly as possible and was relieved to see that Snape was still passed out in his drunken stupor on the couch. The snoring confirmed to Harry that Snape was both alive and that he would be able to leave without having to speak to him. Harry exited the dungeons quickly and walked up to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Harry found Ron and Hermione sitting with Ginny at the end of the Gryffindor table waiting for him. They looked up when he walked in; it looked as though they'd been doing that every time someone walked through. Ron moved over to give him room on the bench and patted Harry on the back as he sat down to eat.

"How was it mate?" Ron asked while Hermione and Ginny looked at him expectantly. Harry shrugged.

"Alright I guess. He was asleep when I got there, so I didn't really have to talk to him or anything, just went to my room and went to sleep."

"It's so creepy, you having to live with him and everything. What's it look like down there? Are there bats?" Ginny asked.

"Of course there aren't bats, honestly." Hermione answered. "But I always did wonder what sort of living arrangements to castle provided teachers…"

"Its alright, there's two bedrooms, a bath, a kitchen area and a living space." Harry replied as he reached for a slice of toast and jam.

"Yeah but what's it look like?" Ron asked through a mouthful of eggs.

"You know, I don't really feel like discussing this now. Can we talk about something else?" Harry said irritated.

"Oh! That reminds me!" Hermione exclaimed as she reached into her bag to bring forth an envelope. "The mail already came, you missed it. A barn owl came by and dropped a letter for you, I don't know who it's from but it must be someone who knew we'd give it to you, because the owl didn't really seem to mind you weren't here."

Hermione handed Harry the letter. His name was on it in the long feminine script that could only belong to Dumbledore. Harry sighed, and wondered what that man wanted now. He slid his finger under the seal and opened the envelope to produce a letter. It read:

_Harry. Forgive the change in scheduling, but I feel it is imperative that you come to my office at precisely noon for a chat. I will provide sandwiches._

_-Albus Dumbledore._

_P.S. Congratulations on your recent marriage. _

Harry handed the letter back to Hermione to read. She scanned it quickly then gave it back to him.

"It's a bit odd, isn't it?" She said looking at Harry for an explanation. Ron grabbed the letter and read it over.

"D'ya think it's about, you know, you-know-what?" He asked.

"I dunno, I suppose. I asked him about _that _yesterday but he didn't say he'd heard anything, or nothing new at least. And what's this ridiculousness congratulating me on a marriage _he _arranged?" Harry replied.

"I don't know, but maybe last night something changed."

"Well done, Hermione. You're a right Sherlock, you know that?"

"You don't have to be such an arse, Ron. I was just saying,"

"Oy- when you're all done being vague and all that, I think I'll go have a chat with Luna." Ginny interrupted, hushing the group quickly by reminding them that she was still there. "At least _she_ doesn't forget I'm there when she gets spacey."

"Speaking of…" Hermione said under her breath as Luna walked up to their table.

"Hello," Luna said, her voice having the same familiar dreamy tone they were all used to. She patted Harry on the head as she walked around the end of the table to sit next to Ginny. "How was your wedding night then, Harry?"

Ron snorted and chuckled over the remains of his breakfast. Harry elbowed him in the ribs and told her that it was _alright_.

"Did you get into a fight with Snape again? He looks quite miserable, and he keeps looking at you from over at the Head Table." Luna said as she looked across the hall.

"No…" Harry turned to look up at the Head Table. He hadn't even noticed Snape arrive; he imagined the man must have a hell of a hangover. As soon as he found Snape their eyes locked and he felt a strange sensation, as though there was a tug, or pull on his mind. Was Snape using legilemency on him? None of the usual images came to mind that he associated with his occlumency lessons from when Snape used to use legilemency on him though… just a weird sensation of heightened emotions: confusion, resistance, frustration, anger, anger at a situation, anger at a person, anger at the self, humiliation, and, oddly, yearning for a warmth unknown. And then he blinked and it went away. He looked at his friends to see if they'd felt it too.

"You okay mate?" Ron asked worriedly. Harry nodded. Clearly this was one of Snape's tricks that he was forced to be privy to. Bullocks, but he'd put on a face for his friends; no reason to alarm them that Snape was trying to invade his emotions now too.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine."

"Lots of Ulma-Ooma's in the air this time of year." Luna informed them. "You might want to be careful Harry; they can often cause confusion and disorientation if you accidentally inhale the fumes left behind during their mating season. You do seem to be more susceptible to their affects, I've noticed. "

Everyone but Ginny (who smiled and rolled her eyes) snorted.

"Okay, thanks Luna." Harry looked back up at Snape who was still looking at him, his face showing a mixture of surprise, bewilderment, and something else Harry couldn't quite place.

---

Snape's first conscious thought upon waking up was to register the amount of pain he was in. His head felt as though it was splitting open and the light from the fireplace that was mysteriously still going was not helping. At least he was warm, but when in the hell last night had he wrapped a blanket around himself? Where had the blanket even come from? It's not like he kept one draped across the back of the couch.

Snape sat up and looked around him. Nothing seemed quite right: the fire was going strong but the torches along the wall had been dimmed, his scotch bottle, empty, was standing upright on the coffee table rather than smashed against a wall or dropped next to the couch, and again, there was a blanket on him. On closer inspection Snape realized that the blanket was a standard house blanket, black, with a lion and the Gryffindor house name in gold and red (respectively.) Snape scowled.

Potter had tampered with his things. Harry Potter had tampered with his things, had been in his rooms, seen him in his drunken stupor. Had he been conscious for any of it? Snape couldn't remember far past cleaning up the remains of his sandwich, stumbling back to the couch, and taking a swig from his then-half full bottle of scotch. What time had that been again?

Fuck. And now it was nearly ten and the house-elves would stop serving breakfast. No classes to deal with today- thank god for that- but, as Dumbledore constantly liked to point out to Snape, attendance for meals were mandatory unless illness or the headmaster said so. Snape ran his fingers through his knotty greasy hair and changed his clothes quickly- a shower would have to wait- then walked up to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Snape saw Harry Potter sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table when he walked in but luckily none of his little friends seemed to take notice to him. They seemed engrossed in some conversation- Potter was probably telling them all how much of a pathetic drunk Snape was and how he had to drink himself under the table last night to deal with this ridiculous set-up. Predictable, loathsome Potter. Snape wanted to vomit.

He took his seat at the end of the Head Table and looked over the various dishes set in front of him. Porridge was a good start to any hangover cure. Porridge and a hot cup of English Breakfast Tea. Classic. Snape looked over at Potter again. He and his friends were reading a piece of paper. He wondered what it said. Why the fuck did Potter put a blanket on him? Did he stoke the fire too? Potter couldn't have been trying to be nice; Snape had after all choked him to the point where he lost consciousness just earlier that day after all. Fucking idiot Potter.

The Lovegood girl was over there now. What were they talking about? Potter and his friends turned and looked at him. Suddenly everything he'd been feeling became stronger, more intense. He was angry, so very angry. Angry at the Ministry, the Dark Lord, at Dumbledore, himself, and to a slightly lesser extent his father and some people he'd never met before, though he hadn't been thinking anything of the sort. His humiliation at being found drunk last night was pulled forth, confusion about something Dumbledore wanted, a resistance to the marriage and frustration at the tidy way it was put in place to tie him in. He also felt a deep yearning for the warmth of a family and of a love he never knew.

Potter was the first to blink and look away. Snape put his hand over his eyes and rubbed his temples. It felt nothing like legilemency but Snape could tell he'd been communicating with Potter in some way. This had to be from the bond, but it was a bit early for the effect to be so strong, even if it was unclear. Usually the people involved had to consciously make an effort to utilize the bonds magic, and usually it took practice and training. He and Potter had barely glanced at each other and every emotion either of them had been remotely feeling had been shared. With such lack of training in legilemency and a barely working knowledge of occlumency Snape wondered if Potter had felt it as clearly as he had.

God damn his life. It was bad enough when he had to see random memories of Potters' life during occlumency lessons two years ago. Now he was going to have to share emotions with him? He was never going to be able to look Potter in the eye again.


End file.
